It was easy to spot the two figures walking in the surf along the vast, empty beach. One was Xena, a impressively tall woman with long glossy dark hair, stunning, light blue eyes and a firm, supple body. The other was shorter, strong and lithe, with a golden cloud of fair hair and darker blue, laughing eyes. This was Gabrielle, the warrior woman’s lover - a young fighter for justice with the soul of a poet. It was through her that Xena had found her own soul, heart and eventual peace.
They walked naked in the early morning, water glistening on their smooth skin, clinging to the tiny hairs. As they reached the rocks near Argo, Xena’s faithful Palomino horse, idly munching grass, they leaned back in their familiar pose, Gabrielle wrapped in Xena’s powerful yet slender arms and watched the spray blowing in the soft air. The air was fresh and Xena sensed Gabrielle shudder slightly in the light breeze, it blew tendrils of damp hair across her face and she gently brushed them back with her lips. Her lips felt warm and Gabrielle instinctively raised her own soft mouth to Xena’s deep, sweet kisses. She sought Xena’s tongue with her own but slowly Xena’s mouth travelled down to Gabrielle’s creamy throat and lightly veined, full breasts, sucking and chewing playfully on the prominent, rosy nipples. Running her tongue down Gaby’s flat, hard belly her tongue followed her fingers into Gaby’s slit, immediately finding her clitoris already swollen and throbbing with hot juices. Kneeling between Gaby’s well muscled thighs Xena felt warm fluids flowing down over her shoulder and between her magnificent breasts, across her belly to drip between her strong thighs, mingled with her own juices onto the sand.
Gabrielle’s legs felt week as orgasm approached and she slid down placing her body between Xena’s legs. She reached up with her face and sucked feverishly at Xena’s hard, red nipples and felt in return, Xena’s own hot wetness on her own stomach. As they writhed together in ecstasy, their orgasms built up, and their cries were carried away on the wind, muted by the crashing of the surf.
Further up on the cliffs, Aphrodite and Ares watched. Aphrodite smiled in approval, her hand pressing her own mound in delight, hidden by the folds of her filmy robe - Ares was torn between excitement and jealously - it would be easy for Aphrodite to place him between the bodies of the two women he most desired making love to each other, but they’d be doing it to him. He was a god himself, but the god of war had no power to enchant these carnal creatures whose passion was only for each other. He’d have to amuse himself with the Harpies and fantasise about Xena and Gabrielle. He watched them ride Argo, naked together and bareback, dreamily along the beach, eyes half closed, lost in each other, but the burning in his loins only intensified.
Copyright lucath 1998